Comfort and Joy
by bubblegum-buddy
Summary: Will forces Grell to work overtime on Christmas Eve as punishment for the Jack the Ripper case. Can they both learn the real meaning of Christmas? -NOT yaoi.-


December 24, 9:47 PM  
Grell's Office

The London Dispatch Center for the Grim Reapers was bustling with excitement. It was Christmas Eve, and despite the fact that they were technically considered gods in their own right, the Reapers always had grand celebrations every year for the holiday. Evergreen trees and wreaths could be found on every door and in every corner, decorated to the point where they were almost ostentatious. Some of the more lecherous – or pranksterish, they would call themselves – Reapers had hung mistletoe in precarious places for the sole purpose of creating awkward situations all in the spirit of the holiday, and despite the fact that their annual party had not begun yet, a few of the newer Reapers were singing Christmas carols from their offices rather loudly.

"Hey, Grell!" a bubbly Reaper with two-toned hair called out over a particularly loud rendition of "The Holly and the Ivy." "Are you coming up to the second floor with me?" he asked brightly, his green eyes glowing with excitement.

A red-haired Reaper currently sporting a red Santa hat looked up at the black-and-blond haired reaper and grinned, his shark-like teeth making the smile appear almost dangerous without intending to at all. "Oh, Ronnie dear, of course I'm coming!" he replied emphatically. "It's the Christmas party, I wouldn't miss it for the world!"

Ronald pumped his fist into the air happily. "Awesome!" he said enthusiastically. "I can't wait – hey, Grell, do you think Undertaker – I mean Santa – is going to come this year? He was busy last year with work."

Grell tapped a black-gloved hand to his delicate chin in thought. "I'm not sure," he responded. "But that would be horrible if he couldn't come again. Work, on Christmas? It's almost blasphemy!"

"Consider yourself a heathen then, Sutcliffe," a deep, authoritative voice announced from the hallway. Both Grell and Ronald quickly turned their heads, a joint feeling of "Oh-shit-what-did-I-do-now?" running through them.

"What do you mean, Will?" Grell asked, his eyes wide.

William adjusted his square-shaped glasses. "You've been running me down with all the paperwork you left me from your little 'incident,'" he said, referring to the Jack the Ripper case. "So, you'll work overtime tonight."

"Whaaaat?" the two younger Reapers shouted in unison. "Will, that's not fair!" They could have been twins for all anyone else knew.

"It is indeed fair, Knox, Sutcliffe," Will responded in his usual, business-like fashion. "Sutcliffe, you need to help make up for all the work you've caused for everyone else. However, everyone else is free to attend the party on the second floor. I will not be attending as I also have work to do."

Grell could only whimper wordlessly like a kicked puppy, so Ronald interjected, saying, "But, come on, Will! It's Christmas! That's just cruel! Can't he work overtime on the 26th?"

William shot the younger Reaper a death glare (which, he supposed, was a bit redundant). "Sutcliffe will work overtime tonight," he stated simply. "If you think that is so unfair, you are free to join him. If not, then be on your way. Now."

Ronald looked at Grell with something like fear in his eyes, his expression saying what he was too afraid to: "You're not going to have me skip the Christmas party, are you?"

Grell sighed and waved Ronald off in a fashion that would have been playful if it wasn't for the fact that William had just managed to verbally piss on all of his holiday spirit in less than five minutes. "You go, Ronald," the red Reaper said resignedly. "Have fun at the party," he added with his usual shark-toothed grin. "Go get kissed twice as much for me~"

Ronald became more at ease at this. "Haha, will do, Grell!" he said playfully, and quickly took his leave to head up to the second floor.

Grell turned his head, looking to bargain with William one last time, but he was already gone down the hallway, likely to his own office. Grell grit his teeth and took out a manila envelope filled with papers. "Scrooge," he growled under his breath. This was going to be a long, horrible night. Damn William for ruining Christmas, the best holiday of the year!

December 24, 10:32 PM  
Grell's Office

Grell was sitting in a valley of paperwork, giant white stacks that looked as though they would fall over at just one powerful sneeze surrounding his ladylike face. He sighed and looked up, hoping that maybe it was midnight, which would mark the official end of his overtime, William said. Christmas Eve was bad enough, but Will himself knew he'd likely be stabbed to death with holly stems and candy canes if he had Grell working on Christmas Day. He frowned upon realizing that he still had an hour and twenty eight minutes left to work.

Turning around in his small office, however, a sea of white that was most certainly not the promise of a white Christmas, he sighed deeply. When would midnight come?

December 24, 11:13 PM

Grell had long since stopped attempting to fill out paperwork, and was currently playing a fascinating game of holiday-themed Tic-Tac-Toe with himself. And somehow, he was losing. This was taking forever.

"Wiiiiilll," he whined to himself, "you're so meaaan." Grell huffed and listened quietly. He could hear that, just above him, the laughter and singing of his coworkers and friends. Someone, most likely a drunken Ronald, was dancing very loudly, making the ceiling of Grell's office shake a bit. Grell whined as he thought about just how much fun he was most likely missing, and it was all Will's fault!

December 24th, 11:16 PM  
Will's Office

William scoffed to himself as he heard Grell whining from the third office down from him. The stupid Reaper should have known that actions have consequences. If that involved working overtime during the Christmas party, then so be it. It wasn't a huge loss for Will, either. He never really cared for mistletoe-induced promiscuity, or watching a bunch of idiot interns chug eggnog shots – somehow they managed that one.

No, William T. Spears preferred a much quieter, more peaceful Christmas, spent in spiritual solitude. No one ever came into his office unless he wanted to give them a verbal one-two, but if they did, they would see that William actually had a small wooden Nativity scene set up in the corner of his room. It had the traditional Mary, Joseph, and the three wise men, but it also had two shepherds, the donkey, three sheep (two lambs and one ewe, to be precise), and even the angel Gabriel standing on the roof, holding the Star of Bethlehem in his hands for all the world to see.

That was William's idea of Christmas.

Not this ridiculously overdone excuse of a holiday that couldn't have deviated further from its true meaning.

Couldn't anyone else see that?

December 24th, 11:39 PM  
Grell's Office

"Aaah, Will, I hate you!" Grell growled to himself, hopefully not loud enough so William wouldn't make him work overtime tomorrow too. He could now hear everyone above him start to sing and he frowned. Everyone always told him on Christmas what a wonderful singer he was, it was one thing he loved most about the holiday. Granted, most of those people were drunk on spirits – and not just of the holiday variety – but it still made Grell feel like … well, like he was worth something.

It was then that Grell got a terribly, wonderfully devious idea. Just because he couldn't go to the party didn't mean he wasn't allowed to sing, even if it was by himself.

Oh ho, revenge was about as sweet as sucking on Sebastian's candy cane.

"God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay!" the red Reaper called rather obnoxiously. Will might be able to take his Christmas party, but he would not, under any circumstances, take away his right to proudly carol in his office!

December 24th, 11:42 PM  
Will's Office

Will was just about to get up, feeling cheerful for some reason, and about ready to let Sutcliffe off for the night – surely he'd caught up on all his paperwork by now – when he heard that idiot begin to sing. Loudly. Obnoxiously. Three offices down from him. But it might as well have been in his ear.

"Remember Christ our Savior was born upon this day!" that fool was singing. But, much to Will's surprise, he was actually … _good._ And he wasn't turning the song into some freakish dance routine only a whore would dance to, like he usually would. Did Grell actually enjoy singing Christmas carols? Traditional Christmas carols? Without raping the very existence of carols themselves? That was a pleasant surprise.

Will looked at the clock and sighed to himself. Oh, what the hell, it was Christmas, after all. As long as Grell didn't go and try to sneak off to see that demon.

He opened his mouth and uttered the next line, which was rather fitting, considering his previous thought.

"To save us all from Satan's pow'r when we have gone astray…"

December 24th, 11:43 PM  
Grell's Office

Grell almost stopped singing as he suddenly heard a second voice join him. That was strange. No one else was on this floor. The custodians were let off for Christmas, and the interns and everyone else were all upstairs. The Ghost of Christmas Past? No, that was far too Dickens to be true.

So then, it could only be…

The red-haired Reaper's eyes suddenly lit up. Will! Will was actually joining him and being a good sport! Somehow, this was even better than annoying the living Hell out of him. He grinned a shark-toothed grin and poked his head out his office. When he saw Will doing the same, albeit more hesitantly, Grell took in a deep breath and belted out the next line.

"O, tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy!"

Will grinned to himself a bit and added on to Grell's bit.

"O, tidings of comfort and joy."

Grell hopped all the way out of his office and over to his boss. "Will! You actually are joining me in singing? Oh, thank the Gods, you're not a total Scrooge after all!" he stammered happily.

Will smirked. "I never said I was. I just don't enjoy this holiday when it deviates from the real meaning of Christmas." He made a gesture inside his office, and he could see Grell's eyes widen a bit as the younger Reaper caught a glimpse of the wooden Nativity scene. "That right there, Sutcliffe, plain and simple, is my idea of this day."

Grell looked back at his superior. "But the party upstairs is the real meaning, too!" he insisted. "Sure, the traditions are strictly religious, but they still promote the same thing." He shrugged a bit. "Peace on earth? Good will toward men? Christmas is the one time where we all come together in this office, set aside our differences, and have fun as one. That's a miracle in and of itself." Grell's golden eyes sparked with a sudden light. "Come on, let's go upstairs and sing!"

"Wha- No! Absolutely not, Sutcliffe!" Will protested.

"Why not?" Grell pouted. "You're a good singer, and everyone sings on Christmas!"

"I … I am?" the raven-haired Reaper asked, closing his eyes and adjusting his glasses so as to hide the incredulous look on his face.

"Yeah! Come on, Will, let's _go!_" Grell grabbed his superior by the wrist and started to literally drag him up the stairs. Despite Will's constant pleading, Grell, in holiday spirit – or sadism, whatever you wanted to call it – barged right into the Christmas party on the second floor, Dispatch Manager in tow.

"Hey, everyone!" the red Reaper called, practically throwing Will inside. As the music suddenly came to a screeching halt – literally screeching, who the hell brings a violin to a Christmas party? – Will made a mental note to dock Grell's pay for three weeks. Maybe four. Borderline five.

"Will wants to perform a solo number for us!" Grell continued, and as the rest of the Reapers started to cheer and clap, Will felt himself turning a bright scarlet. Sing? Alone? In front of everyone? _Shit._

"I do?" he asked in despair that sounded almost comical.

"Yes, you do!" Grell insisted. "Now, come on, sing for us!"

As the other Reapers started to chime in with, "Yeah, come on, Mr. Spears, sing!" Will felt himself resign to his Christmasy fate. "Well…All right," he said. "What song?"

"Just pick one, any one!" Grell said.

Will took in a deep breath and sighed, trying to relieve his sudden stage fright – or more accurately, second-floor cubicle space fright. "Fine…I think I have one." He took in another breath as the chatter started to die down. "O holy night…" he started awkwardly, and little murmurs of encouragement kept him going. "The stars are brightly shining…"

"Come on, Will, you can do it!" Grell whispered from behind him. Will smirked a bit. Maybe Grell was right after all.

"It is the night, of our dear Savior's birth…"

Grell felt himself absolutely glowing with glee. Here he was, cursing Will's existence not more than ten minutes ago, and all of a sudden, here he was, encouraging his stern superior to sing his heart out in front of all his peers – and Will was an excellent singer, too! For the first time in his life, he felt like he was doing something really good.

"Long lay the world, in sin and error, pining…"

Grell realized that he often spent so long worrying about Christmas, waiting for it to roll around so he could be the one in Will's position, waiting for all eyes and ears to be on him so he could sing, because that feeling always filled him with such joy. But, somehow, he felt ten times better right now, encouraging someone who, under normal circumstances, would never have even dared enter the room, to do exactly what he loved most.

"'Til he appear…"

Grell felt himself whisper the next bit to himself along with Will, but not loud enough so anyone else could hear him.

"And the soul felt its worth."


End file.
